I could hear the sounds of children playing, while women in brightly coloured dresses sang as they cooked in large silver pots. A gentle breeze drifted through the community gathering, and at first glance, it felt like I was watching a peaceful, joyful day. But as I looked closer at the videos, I saw that these were not ordinary gatherings. These were one of Sudan’s community kitchens, known as Takayas. I could see the hunger on people’s faces, the exhaustion, and the effort to survive another day of war in Sudan.
Amid the devastation of Sudan’s ongoing war and deepening famine, ordinary people are creating extraordinary lifelines. Community kitchens like the one I watched, are feeding thousands of starving people every day. I wanted to understand what compelled ordinary victims of war to risk their own safety to feed others, so after I reached out to Mazin Al Rasheed, the founder of the Sururab Community Kitchen in Khartoum, and a photographer before the war, I learned that these Takayas are among the few things still holding the war-ravaged country together.
More than just a place for meals, the Takayas have become a symbol of unity, care, and belonging. Over 700 days since the conflict began, they remain a powerful reminder of Sudanese resilience. When Al Rasheed first started his Takaya, he served 18 families, and after more people heard about the kitchen, it increased to almost 90 families.
Al Rasheed shared the story of Fatima, a volunteer who, despite losing everything and becoming an internally displaced person (IDP), was the first to step forward and offer her help. Initially, she believed Al Rasheed planned to hire someone to run the kitchen, and she insisted that he didn’t need to.
“Fatima told us there was no need to pay someone else. She said she would do the work because she wants to help others. So, in my mind, I consider this woman to be an IDP herself. She has nothing, but she’s willing to offer the little she has left, herself, her work, and her strength.”
Fatima’s story is just one of many. Since the conflict erupted, more than 12 million people have been displaced across Sudan. Famine has been confirmed in at least 10 regions, and for many, these kitchens are their only means of survival.
The city of El Fasher has been among the hardest hit. Under siege by the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), the number of displaced people has surged in recent months. In September, RSF attacks intensified, and in one horrific incident, a drone strike during Friday prayers killed 70 worshippers at a mosque. These recent RSF drone attacks have caused major obstacles for food access in El Fasher, with food markets, such as the Abu Qurun station market bombed in late September.
While such violence continues, over 24 million Sudanese face famine. Food has become a luxury. A mere 2 kilos of millet can cost $100, while a kilo of sugar or flour can reach $80. In El Fasher, a sack of ‘ambaz’, once animal fodder, now a staple food, costs two million Sudanese pounds. Yet, despite everything, the Takayas endure.
Sudanese activist Hala Elshaygi told The Debrief Network that even though many have lost everything, volunteering at the Takayas has given people a renewed sense of purpose and stability.
“Even during this tragedy, there have been symbols of hope, like the Takayas. These kitchens bring people together from all over Sudan, and even beyond. They are mostly run by volunteers, youth, women, and they show that solidarity can survive even in the harshest times. These volunteers are often the most vulnerable, risking their own safety to support others. They do more than just provide food; they rebuild, unite, and inspire hope.”
In the brutal reality of war, these community kitchens have become lifelines for Sudanese. Yet when I watched the videos Al Rasheed shared with me, I saw more than just need, I saw a community that cares deeply. People who show up for each other. Volunteers who begin their days at 5:00 a.m. just for the chance to help. Al Rasheed’s kitchen just ‘celebrated’ 500 days of being operational, yet he explained to me that these takayas should not have had to exist in the first place.
“It came from a deep need of people needing food, and it’s not a beautiful site to see people lining up for a bag of lentils or rice, but most people don’t have 500 days of being able to help others. It’s a good thing, but I hope that we don’t reach our 700 days or 1,000 days. I hope this is our last large milestone that we have. I hope that people can return to their homes, can return to their normal lives, can sustain themselves, can help themselves and we can start to see what we can do in normal times.”
After I spoke to Al Rasheed, I realized that these kitchens were never meant to exist, but their presence reveals something powerful: the ability of Sudan’s people to build and create in the face of destruction. And if peace can find them, they will have the strength to rebuild an even better Sudan.
